


Painted Tie

by Exaigon



Series: DBH Oneshots (Mostly Angst Holy Hell) [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Angst, Fake Character Death, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-06 19:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17351327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaigon/pseuds/Exaigon
Summary: “I want you to hold onto that for me until I get back. I have a lead on the case with the Lieutenant that I must work on.”Markus looked up, his soft smile dropping into a frown. “Be careful alright?”“Everything will be alright,” Connor crooned teasingly.ORMarkus thinks Connor is dead.





	1. Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RK Ten Hundred (Shokubenii)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shokubenii/gifts).



> A request and gift for Shokubenii who is amazing and wonderful and you need to read their work ASAP if you haven't already!

“Markus,” Connor sighed, wiping some blue paints from his boyfriend’s cheek. “You really need to be more careful. We’ve already established this is a group that is somehow well supplied.”

Markus tsked. He pulled away with a slight smirk and grabbed Connor’s fingers. 

“I have you, don’t I? And it’s not like we can just cancel this celebration. It’s a chance for Androids to actually enjoy and mingle with the humans for the New Year.”

“You… are a self-sacrificial idiot.”

“And you, my dear, are a reckless workaholic.”

Connor smirked, tugging his hand away before stepping back. He adjusted his tie automatically smearing fresh paint on it. Markus snorted when he froze, eyes wide.

“Con. You’re such a dork and I love it. I’ll get you a new tie since it’s technically my fault I distracted you,” he grinned.

Connor looked at the ruined tie. It could probably be fixed with a good wash but… Well, why not just make it a special tie instead?

He stepped up to Markus again but instead reached for the palette in the tanned hand, swiping a mixture of paints. Then he proceeded to fingerpaint his tie while Markus watched on in incredulity and increasing amusement.

“There. Now it’s better right?”

“Sure, Connor,” Markus chuckled.

“Good. Then keep it safe for me.”

Connor unknotted the tie and pulled it off to drape around Markus’ neck.

“What! Connor what are you doing? You love your ties,” Makus protested trying to set his palette down and ward off the tie at the same time.

“And I love you. So shut up and take it as an offering of my eternal affection.”

Markus was startled into laughter giving Connor the chance to wrap it about his neck twice with a triumphant grin.

“What happened to your verbiage? Have you been digging into the internet?”

“Perhaps.” He stepped back, smugly observing his work. Markus had finally set down the pallet and was unwrapping the tie with reverent fingers. Which was understandable considering he was very fond of keeping his clothes in tact, especially his ties.

Hank called him narcissistic but Connor couldn’t just easily replace clothes anymore and he liked looking neat. There was nothing wrong with that.

“I want you to hold onto that for me until I get back. I have a lead on the case with the Lieutenant that I must work on.”

Markus looked up, his soft smile dropping into a frown. “Be careful alright?”

“Everything will be alright,” Connor crooned teasingly.

“You are never going to let me get over that are you?”

“Nope.”

* * *

 

Everything was not alright. Markus clutched the colorful tie in his pocket as he stared in horror and grief at the broken parts around the room. All of them belonged to an RK800 model.

His thirium pump sputtered and his chest squeezed as if being constricted by a steel beam. This was wrong so very very wrong. How could this have happened? He’d just seen him this morning! 

The call to come out here had been from Connor. He’d just… He’d just been alive! If Markus had been faster… Maybe if he had not lingered, looking over the painting he’d done of his lover and, instead, had gone to see the real thing...

There was drying thirium splattered like paint across the crumbling walls and Markus had the sudden urge to gather as much of it in his hands as he could and hold it close. That was Connor’s life blood. He took a step forward, hesitant, unsure but still needing to do  _ something _ .

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and Lieutenant Anderson appeared at his side. “You shouldn’t still be here, son. It’s not a pretty sight.”

He’d forgotten the police had arrived a little bit ago after his panicked call.

Markus swallowed dryly and turned to the older man beside him. His face was drawn and weary, the lines harsher and deep, hie eyes red rimmed. He looked devastated and Markus couldn’t even blame him for this. Anderson  _ loved _ Connor. He was part of his family; his son. They were one of the best android/human relationships they had to date.

“I… Why…?”

Anderson snorted, a bitter expression crossing his face. “The world is cruel Markus. No matter how much good you try to pour into it. C’mon. This is a crime scene now. We can’t have you here,” he said, gently steering him away.

A part of Markus never left that warehouse.

* * *

 

He sat and stared blankly at the tie in his hands. The paint was swiped colorfully across it in long lines and little flicked splotches. It was nothing like Connor’s usual neat and put together appearance. Markus had wanted to see him wear it when he got home, to their tiny little apartment in the Jericho complex.

He’d never get to see that. He’d never get to see  _ him. _

The tie scrunched easily in his hands and Markus allowed his anger to ruin the precious piece of his lover for a moment. Then he smoothed it back out and winced at the flaking paint.

There was a knock on the door but he ignored it. He didn’t want his friends checking in on him again. He just wanted to suffer alone and in peace before the New Year’s Eve celebration tomorrow night.

Alone…

He was going to be alone. Without Connor. Forever now.

Markus wasn’t sure he would be able to do that. 

He clutched the tie closer, curling around it on their- his bed

* * *

 

“C’mon Markus. We know it’s hard but all these people are still waiting.”

He didn’t want to. He couldn’t.

How could he go up and put on a smile for people right now? They didn’t know, the humans especially couldn’t know, how he felt about Connor. They had never openly expressed their relationship. North, Simon, and Josh had their suspicions considering how he was acting now and how often they spent around the both of them… but they would never actually know. He couldn’t tell them. It would feel like admitting defeat in a way. He had let the murderers get to him by going after his loved one.

They had already won, though. By taking out Connor they had practically destroyed the leader of Jericho. They didn’t need to destroy him physically when all Markus had to do was reach for that empty void in the back of his mind and shut himself down.

“Markus,” North snapped, irritation leaking into her tone. “Please.”

He sighed and hauled himself off the floor, stuffing the tie into his pocket.  Connor had had suspicions that they would target him at this event. He hoped they would.

The stage was a wooden platform built specifically for this event taking place in Hart Plaza. His footsteps rang out solidly beneath him. The milling humans were outnumbered by the many androids but they seemed at ease so far. 

It was… supposed to be a good thing but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. His people had won the right to fight for their personhood. They could live now even if it would be an uphill battle for equality. They didn’t have to hide anymore. What use was he anymore?

He stood in front of the podium and the microphone, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. Hank Anderson was sulking in the back of the crowd, along with a few other officers he recognized, and there were many many Jericho androids staring at him with cheer in their eyes. Why would they be sad for him if he never let them see or feel…? 

Simon’s eyes were soulful and encouraging, standing by the large wooden monument the androids had built for this occasion. Josh was staring thoughtfully, lips pursed, only a few feet away from the stage.

Behind him stood North, always at the ready. Her other side was achingly empty.

“We are here today to celebrate going into the new year together! Androids and humans as friends; hand in hand, ready for the new day to dawn. A day for peac-”

He was cut off by the bullet lodging itself by his foot, woods splinters shredding the air.

North tackled him as the screams erupted from the crowd. The panic was disorienting and loud and all Markus could feel was disappointment that they missed. They were obviously not a very good shot.

North yanked him up, shoving him off the stage, where they ran into familiar officer. It was the same one that had shot down his people in fear. The same one that Markus himself had refused to murder in cold blood.

“Shit! C’mon, this way. We got a safehouse set up. Connor wants Markus to wait there.”

Did he just talk about Connor in the present tense?

He wasn’t able to think more on it because another bullet landed a few feet away. And then there were men in black hoods running down the street and Markus had a terrible flashback to the night of the revolution.

His thririum pump quickened, his stress levels shooting straight up. But still… something about him was serene. Something told him… everything would be alright.

He stopped, ignoring both North and Officer Miller trying to tug him away. His feet were planted firmly, his resolve settled. He wanted to see Connor again.

The first bullet hit him in the shoulder, the second scraped along the side of his neck, and the third…

Well, it would have hit him straight in the head.

Except. He moved. He dropped to the floor, blocking Officer Miller from harm, while North started shooting back.

He dropped because…

Just for a second…

The void in his mind was filled with Connor again. Panic and fear and love so strong he thought it might be real.

* * *

 

“You idiot!”

Markus sat in the safe house, head buried in his hands as North berated him again for being a moron. She couldn’t understand. That was his chance. That was his chance to leave as a martyr for his people. The easy way out.

But he didn’t take it. So, North was right. He was a moron, he was stupid, and he was an idiot because he should have taken the bullet to the head.

The door creaked, Markus ignored it. He focused on the void to drown out his friend. To drown out the rage and pain and self-loathing.

“I think he gets it, Nor…”

Markus’ processors froze, errors flashing across his HUD. That wasn’t possible.

“He’s a self-sacrificial idiot, we both know that.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t think he’d take the thought of you dying so hard,” she responded. “These last few days have been absolutely ridiculous! I thought he’d get angry not… not this.”

What? 

“I didn’t think so either… I just… Well, it seems we underestimated how much he cares.”

What was going on?

“Right,” she snorted. “I’m not gonna wait for him to snap at you so you’re on your own there, Con.”

Con… Connor?

That wasn’t right?

No. No. Connor was…

Dead. Gone. Forever.

The sound of the door closing didn’t even register. He didn't want to look up. Feared the worst. Hoped for the best. He was gone but what if he wasn’t? Was this all some dream? His own pre-construction programming mapping out an impossible situation? Was he actually going insane?

“Markus… Markus. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you but you had to believe… I had to track them down. They needed to think I was dead.”

It was Connor’s voice pleading with him. It sounded so heartbroken but, oh, what if he looked up and there was nothing? Was he even pulling Connor from his memory banks now? Torturing himself this way would do nothing for anybody. What was wrong with him?

His hands clenched into fists, moving to block his ears. He didn’t want to hear it. He couldn’t do this! He couldn’t!

“Markus,” Connor’s voice yelped, startled. “Markus, your stress-!”

No no nonono _ nonononono! _

Without conscious thought he slammed his entire body back, head hitting the concrete wall with a sickening crack. His audio components fritzed and crackled distorting the voice ringing in his ears. It was still there.  _ Why was it still there? _

He swung his head back again. Another loud crack, except it wasn’t his own head, but the soft plastic  _ something _ behind him. 

Markus’ eyes jolted open, green and blue almost glowing with his terror.

But Connor was there. Connor was there and whole and  _ alive _ . And his hand was currently cradling his head from behind.

The RK800’s lips were moving but Markus couldn’t hear him anymore. How could he still be alive when the void existed?  _ Where was Connor? _

The android’s hand came up to his face, cupping his cheek and gently turning his head. Markus let him.

Connor paused, his lips pursing. The he started to talk again, slowly. His lips wrapped around his words with a purpose. It took almost a minute for Markus to realize his lips were repeating the same movements. It took another minute to figure out what he was saying.

‘Let me in.’

What did that mean? He was in the room. He was always in Markus’ head. Where else did he want in that Markus could let him?

‘Let me in.’

The words were starting to sound more insistent even though he couldn’t hear them and Connor was still speaking at the same speed as before.

‘Let me in.’

It sounded… pained and angry and sad. Just like Markus felt… minus the all consuming grief.

‘Let me in.’

But how could he be hearing it? He was going insane. But he wasn’t because he could  _ feel  _ his hands, so cold just like always.

‘Let me in, Markus!’

He blinked again, a bit groggily, and muttered, “Where?”

Connor paused his face twisting from determination to pained. Markus hated that look. Hated what it did to his features; the furrow between his brows, the thinness of his lips and the glistening in his eyes.

‘Let me in again please. Don’t block me out.’

There were more words this time but Connor only had to say them once. He heard them just fine in his head.

‘Please don’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.’

Don’t do what?

…

The void flickered along with Connor’s voice. ‘Please. Please. Please.’

Each word was a stab to his processor, a throbbing insistent pain that was warning him something was wrong. Errors flashed consistently across his HUD at this point. It was getting rather annoying. He swiped them away again and focused on Connor’s eyes.

They were brown and just as warm as they’d always been, just filled with pain and a bitter aching regret.

His hand lifted of its own accord and Markus allowed his fingers to crawl up Connor’s face, his chassis showing through the tips. He traced the prominent cheekbone before allowing his hand to cup the man’s cheek, copying Connor’s position.

And suddenly he was  _ there  _ and  _ solid _ in a way he hadn’t been before. Connor’s voice thrummed through his blood filling him and drowning him. His emotions swept over him like a tidal wave, wrapping around his own, dulling the sharp edges. The memories of the setup, the few days he’d spent tracking the group, and the night of New Years Eve when he attacked the sniper just in time was offered up on a gold platter and Markus devoured them hungrily.

It hurt. It hurt so bad that Connor resorted to that but at the same time he also  _ understood _ . He knew what it felt like; the desperation, the need to save, the need to accomplish the set mission. So, it hurt but it was nowhere near compared to the grief and anger that he all but shoved at his lover. Connor accepted it all gracefully, bowing his head until their foreheads met.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“Do you still have my tie?”

“Of course.”

“I think I want to wear it right now.”

“... Of course.”

Markus wanted to see that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if the bullet didn't miss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to make an angst ending whoops. Even though it fought me a lot I think it's... okay.

The third bullet hit him straight in the head.

Connor watched it all happen from afar after he wrestled down the sniper and snapped three consecutive punches in the temporal lobe. The man dropped like a bag of bricks and Connor rushed to the railing to watch the chaos below.

He watched as everything went to plan except for Markus. Markus stopped. He stopped right in front of a hail of bullets.

He could see the way his lover’s head snapped back and the way his body toppled.

He saw  _ everything. _

And his everything  **_shattered_ ** .

Like a tank in one of those games Gavin sometimes mentioned at the office, Connor charged into the fray after launching himself from the building and using a nearby tree to safely land. He bulldozed his way through panicking androids and humans alike until he joined the massacre near North. There were still three of the fifteen men standing. He barreled past North, ignoring the bullets other than to dance around most of the time. The first one died quickly with a snapped neck. The second, a bullet to the head from the first’s gun. The third… Connor shot out his knees before putting mercy lead between his eyes.

Connor stood there shivering, cold even as his biocomponents started to overheat, until he could no longer ignore North’s sobbing.

He turned sharply on his heel to survey the scene behind him. Officer Miller seemed fine and was trying to console a snarling, howling WR400. The gun was on the ground beside her as she clutched at Markus’ body like her life depended on it. Perhaps it did.

Connor’s certainly did.

His HUD flashed warnings but he ignored them, muting them, and stumbled his way over until he fell to his knees in front of them.

North stared at him with red eyes, almost uncomprehendingly, before her expression warped, souring quickly. 

“This is your fault,” she growled. “This is all your fault!”

It was his fault. If he hadn’t left Markus…. If he hadn’t made him believe…

This was his fault and he deserved any punishment given to him. That’s why he didn’t react when North shot up and lunged at him, her fists landing harshly on his cheeks and jaw again and again and again.

“Hey! Hey! Get off!”

He vaguely registered Officer Miller’s voice but he couldn’t be bothered to process what he was yelling. He only focused on the error messages filling his HUD until they blinded him a binding crimson. It reminded him utterly of the red wall. The wall he’d broken for Hank… for Markus…

It would be so much easier to fall back onto the nothing of the machine. Onto following orders and not worrying about the morality or the emotion behinds things. It was complete task, work is done. A to B in a straight line. Connor liked straight lines, they were always so much easier.

“Connor!”

Oh. That was Hank.

“Connor!! Jesus christ what the hell happened!”

“I-I… I didn’t mean,” North’s voice was still low but it had lost its razor sharp edge. Instead, she just sounded lost and pained. “I just- Markus is- and he- Dammit!”

“Aw christ. Kid you lashed out in anger I get it. His Led is still glowing so he’s still here… Connor can you hear me?”

Oh, he could hear him just fine. He just didn’t want to. He’d rather focus on the nothing… actually maybe he could turn off his audio? Then he’d just be left with the red… the red of the wall… of Amanda’s roses. Good obedient, easy red.

“Connor? Son? Are you alright? Shit! Connor!”

The word son clanged around his processor noisily and Connor blinked a few times trying to make it stop. No, he didn’t want to care. It went off like a claxon and Connor groaned, the noise staticky with a mechanical undertone. There was nothing wrong with his voice box. It shouldn’t be making those noises.

“I am fine, Hank.”

He could feel his broken chassis try to form his lips around the words but it was awkward and halting. His face was too damaged for that. If he were a human he probably wouldn’t be able to talk at all. But he was an android with a voice box in his throat.

An android…

An android with a blaringly empty void that in the back of his mind that he’d caused. It was only meant to be temporary. Never forever. And yet… It was there. All consuming. Only the red could block it out.

He would never see him again. Never feel him again. Never be able to share…

“Connor, thank god. How are you? Is everything… functioning?”

That’s right. With Hank… he would never be able to share the depth of the emotion deviancy had forced onto him. A human could not see like another android could and Markus… Markus had been the only one he trusted. The only one willing to accept him wholeheartedly…

“My facial plates are jarred and damaged but beyond that, everything is fine Hank.”

* * *

 

He couldn’t do this anymore. Now he understood why the deviants had cracked and lashed out. If this is how strongly they felt…? How did humans deal with this? It was distracting, depressing, overwhelming, overstimulating. His very code screamed at him every minute of every day. Is this what Hank felt when he lost his son? How was he still alive?

Oh… That’s right. He’d said something about killing himself a little every day hadn’t he?

He wanted a slow death.

Connor could agree with that. It was his fault after all. He deserved every bit of suffering he received. Except still his systems screamed, overheating and chilling all at once. He deserved to suffer but at the same time he couldn’t take it. He was much more cowardly than Hank. He couldn’t even tell the man, who seemed like a father to him, goodbye.

Connor really did deserve to suffer.

He glanced at the countdown in the corner of his HUD and his thirium pump sitting next to him on the bed. His fingers itched to grab it again, the fear of death a strong motivator. RK800, Connor, feared life more than death and he was such a coward.

The seconds ticked down and he sat back on the bed, his own bed given to him by Hank only a few days after the revolution, ignoring Sumo snuffling outside.

When the digits got below ten he boosted his heating dramatically, wincing at the burn behind his eyes, and double timed his processors focused on deleting code. He rejected the cooling system's initiation prompt and allowed his thoughts to drift and  _ glitch _ .

For a very brief moment he wondered what happened to his painted tie.

~~ He wanted to see Markus one last time. ~~

* * *

 

A few weeks later and Hank Anderson was getting worried. Well, more worried than he had been. Connor hadn't been the same after Markus death. He seemed more strained and less genuine in everything he did.

He’d tried everything in the book to get the kid to talk too but that had only gotten him a bitter, “I can’t show you, Hank. Just trust me when I say that I’m fine, please.”

And that had been the start of his mother hen mode. Shit, he hadn’t acted like this since before he’d lost Cole but Connor was special. He’d always been special ever since the moment he met him. During the time of their partnership Hank had gotten attached and to see him spiral like this was disheartening. 

God, if someone had told him a year ago, even a few months ago, that he’d be trying to help an android with emotions he’d have knocked their lights out. Hank may be a drunk but he still had years of training under his belt.

He only wished he could do more for his partner.  Knocking a few teeth in would be so much easier that  _ this _ .

Hank sighed as he opened the front door. Jeffrey had let him go earlier than he’d wanted because Hank was insistent. He just had this terrible gut feeling that something was wrong especially since Connor had declined going into the office. It was technically his off day, Hank’s too he’d just been called in, but where Hank went for a job, his robo-poodle usually followed.

“Connor,” he called as soon as the door was closed. Sumo came trudging out of the hallway with a small boof. Hank saw him, saw his dog’s eyes acknowledge him before he shuffled back into the hallway and the sound of scratching echoed into the living room. Hank’s stomach dropped and his gut churned with that  _ wrongness _ from before.

“Shit, Connor!”

He hurried into the hallway and practically burst down the door to Connor’s room. He stared. He couldn't help it. Couldn’t tear his eyes from the scene that seemed so peaceful, so serene… so horrifying. He wanted to move, wanted it to not be real. His eyes drifted taking in the whole scene.

Connor was laying on the bed, face peaceful, blue staining his white stomach, skin receded to his sides, just like the time at the Stratford Tower when he’d come barreling out of the kitchens to save everyone. Except there was a piece missing this time. A small circular piece that was sitting on the bed next to his legs, his fingertips gently resting on it.

“Jesus Christ!”

Sumo’s shoving past him startled him into moving. He jumped forward, his hand snatching up the vital biocomponent and shoving it back into its proper place with panicked urgency. It snapped in with a click.

Nothing happened.

Hank’s heart squeezed viciously, his thoughts an incoherent tangled mess spinning around and around. He couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop trembling as his vision blurred. The white chassis of his torso was glaring back at him accusingly.

What happened? What did he miss?

He brought a shaking hand up to wipe at the blue stains on Connor’s face; tear tracks as if he’d been crying in his last moments even though the rest of his face was perfectly pristine. The blue smeared into his cheeks, more goopy feeling than normal thirium, and Hank gagged on his own tears and shame.

“Connor? Son? Please?”

The LED on his temple stayed gray.

Not again.

“Fucking god Connor please! Don’t do this to me!”

Not him. Please not him.

His fingers brushed against the small mood ring and he choked again, the tears building and sliding hotly down his cheeks. With gentle hands he brought the kid’s forehead to his own.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I’m so fucking sorry. Fuck!”

There was no reaction. What had he been expecting? Connor was dead. Gone. Just like Cole. And it was still his own fucking fault. His fault. Always his fault. He couldn’t do anything right. He didn’t deserve any happiness. Should have blown his brains out before this.

He couldn’t do this again.

Not again.

He howled gutturally, pouring his self-hatred and despair into his cracking throat, vaguely noticing Sumo’s own mournful bays joining his. Connor deserved it. Fuck he deserved so much more than this. He should have done something, anything. He’d seen the spiral, but not recognized the intensity. He’d wanted to let the android come to him. It was a mistake. 

Somewhere in his veil of grief and rage he remembered that androids could be fixed. Could be revived if they were still intact enough. Connor, besides the drying thirium, looked to be in perfect condition.

Maybe there was chance.

He could still be saved and this time Hank wouldn’t let him be quiet.

He wouldn’t let him… couldn’t…

* * *

 

“Well…”

Hank glared at the blonde android. “Well,” he growled.

Simon -he was pretty sure it was Simon- glanced over at the frowning traci. Her arms were crossed, brows lowered in clear agitation.

“Ugh. You’re welcome to see him ya old fuck-”

“Then fucking move-”

She stepped in front of him her arms dropping, stance steady. She would have no issues fighting him and tracis packed one helluva punch for non combat androids.

“Look. Connor didn’t just pull out his thirium pump regulator. Whatever he did he also fried his processors and melted his eyes. He’s not-” her voice hitched almost imperceptible, her shoulders drooping before she squared them again. “He’s not the same. We fixed as much as we could but-”

He already didn’t like the sound of ‘fried his processors’ but that ‘but’ made his heart drop, nausea roiling in his stomach. Not to mention her demeanor. Nor-something or other was one of Connor’s closer allies, friends, in Jericho. He talked about her a lot. Was fond of her and she seemed fond of him in turn besides her berserker moment on New Years. Seeing her distraught, because fuck if he wasn’t a detective he knew the signs, was icing on the shit cake he was about to eat.

“But?”

“We had to do a factory reset to even get him up and running. His coding was so shattered that I couldn’t hope to piece it together without a base. Markus might’ve… Well. It patched itself mostly but he’s not going to be the same,” Simon interjected.

Jesus Christ.

To know that Markus could’ve saved Connor- No. He couldn’t… wouldn’t allow himself to think on it. He’d fucking promised the sassy little shit he’d try to do better and that meant getting Connor back no matter how brain damaged. He couldn’t do it without him.

Wait.

“What about his deviancy?”

Both of their grimaces gave him the answer to that question.

He shoved past them into the sterilized metal room, frown heavy on his lips. Connor stood perfectly still staring straight ahead, eyes blank. They were a different color brown, not as deep or puppyish. The lighter brown almost made him seem a bit more intimidating with the blank look he currently wore.

Hank twisted his jaw trying not to bite through his tongue.

“Connor.”

No reaction.

“Connor!”

“RK800, register your name.”

Hank jolted and stared back into soulful whiskey eyes. Simon’s lips quirked bitterly and he nodded his chin towards Connor. His head was tilted towards them, eyes attentive.

They were still eerily blank.

“You’ve g-gotta be fucking kidding me.”

He couldn’t. There was no fucking way.

He swallowed dryly, tongue feeling like cotton in his mouth.

“I think if it were any of us he’d want you to do it.” Simon’s hand was on his shoulder, squeezing gently. He wanted to say he hated it but the contact was grounding him.

Fuck.

“Your name is Connor,” he wheezed, choking on his tongue.

“Hello. My name is Connor.”

The smile was straight and empty.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow... There's a lot of little clues in they way they speak about all the little insecurities they have and I just noticed... OMG they wrote themselves wtf... I mean they have only been together like a month and a half honestly... 
> 
> They need to work on their relationship and reliance issues. Hm.
> 
> WELL... I hope you enjoyed! And the Alt ending is up next~~ >:)


End file.
